


The Other Hiccup

by Adex



Category: Hiccup Series - Cressida Cowell, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: 12 Days of Doomsday, 12 Days of Doomsday 2020, Doomsday, Doomsday 2020, Doomsday of Yule, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Book 12: How to Fight a Dragon's Fury, The Celebration of the Black Star, post-how to fight a dragon's fury, this is the one where book!hiccup and movie!hiccup meet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adex/pseuds/Adex
Summary: In the run-up to the Fifth Celebration of the Black Star, Thuggory the Meathead returns from his trading. The only problem is that he brings someone else back, someone else with the same name as King Hiccup.Discontinued until further notice.
Relationships: Camicazi & Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Fishlegs No-Name, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Thuggory the Meathead, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Toothless, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Wodensfang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter for the first day of the 12 Days of Doomsday 2020! This fandom is absolutely minuscule compared to some others I'm in, so I wanted to do my part this year. It's my first time participating, so please go easy on me.
> 
> Remember, comments and kudos are love!
> 
> -Adex
> 
> P.S This is not meant to be a Story with a three-act structure and a Heroic ending. This is meant to be a small viginette into the experience of one Hiccup discovering another and trying to make his way back home.

**For the entirety of this chapter, 'Hiccup' refers to book!Hiccup.**

Hiccup rested his cheek on his hand as he snuck looks at the dragon-shaped sand-timer resting on the thin windowsill. He wasn’t supposed to, but he couldn’t help counting down to when his grandfather Old Wrinkly was allowed to make his move. Hiccup’s eyes darted to the sand timer again. _Twenty seconds_.

‘ _Hiccup_ ,’ Old Wrinkly said sharply. Hiccup froze, his eyes still trained on the timer; he had been caught. ‘That’s another minute until I move.’

‘Grandfather,’ Hiccup asked, his tone almost pleading, ‘normally, when one puts a timer on chess, the goal is to finish the game quickly.’

Old Wrinkly stroked his impressively long beard. ‘That is true,’ he concessed, ‘but it is also true that _normally_ the goal of chess is to exercise the mind. You can do speed chess. You can _not_ do slow chess. Part of slow chess is to _not check the timer_ , as by doing so you are sabotaging yourself.’

Hiccup abandoned all pretense of not being bored and crossed his arms, leaning forward to lay his chin on them. The intricately carved black stone of his King piece was millimetres away from his eye. Just for fun, he blew on it softly.

Not even a wobble.

Technically, Hiccup could leave the game - but there was nothing else to _do_ . (Aside from the numerous Kingly Duties he had to attend to, but like most teenagers, Hiccup wasn’t all that keen to do them.) Fishlegs was busy building huts on Hero’s End with his tribe, Camicazi was off with her mother learning how to do Chiefly Things, and Toothless was sulking somewhere in the castle because **_‘Mean Master!’_ **wouldn’t let him have his mackerel before his wood.

Hiccup almost wanted to sigh at the thought of Fishlegs. He hadn’t seen him for a whole month - which wasn’t really all too much in the grand scheme of things, but it was a far cry from living out of each others’ pockets as they had been for the past five years. Of course, it ended when Hiccup offered the No-Names Hero’s End once the ice froze over again. Hiccup had helped, of course, supervising as the No-Names - now numbering over a hundred - skated back and forth to carry materials and dragons and children to their new home.

At least both Fishlegs and Camicazi would be back in a few days for the Celebration of the Black Star. _Everyone_ would be in Tomorrow then, even the ex-Alvinsmen. Hiccup’s heart began to beat faster with anxiety as he thought of it. Many now followed Chief Madguts the Murderous of the Murderous Tribe, who seemed to have a worrying obsession with directing Gumboil to make passive-aggressive comments about Hiccup’s Stone at every opportunity.

‘Check,’ Old Wrinkly announced smugly, turning over the sandtimer. Hiccup took in the old man’s play; he’d moved his bishop to threaten his King because Hiccup had moved the pawn protecting the King from it. He let his eyes trawl over the board; the bishop was defended by a rook, but _Hiccup_ ’s rook was also attacking it and so was his knight. He moved wandering fingers toward the ornate statuette of a Viking on a rearing dragon-

‘ _Hiccup_.’

‘Sorry, grandfather.’

A crash came from the hallway and Hiccup’s head perked up from where he was resting it. Suddenly, a little brown blur rocketed across the room and crashed into Hiccup’s chest, making him squeak with surprise.

**_‘Wodensfang? What’s going on?’_ ** Hiccup asked in Dragonese.

‘Heir Thuggory’s returned from the Fatimids!’ the Wodensfang gasped in Norse. ‘He’s requesting an audience and we need to get you _ready_!’

‘Oh my goodness,’ Hiccup mumbled. ‘I’ll just - erm - sorry, Grandfather, but I really must _go_ -’ He stood up shakily, almost knocking over the chessboard. Wodensfang flapped about anxiously before grabbing the back of Hiccup’s waistcoat and _PULLING_ him from the room. He barely had time to wave goodbye before being dragged out the room and towards the Courtyard. After several harrowing minutes, in which Hiccup tried to keep up with the ancient dragon, they arrived at Hiccup’s Stone.

**_‘Put it on!’_ **Wodensfang commanded.

**_‘Alright, alright!’_** Hiccup replied, already making sure that the _Endeavour_ was safely secured in his scabbard. He pulled the Ticking Thing’s chain slightly out of his waistcoat pocket, enough that it was visible, rooted around for the chain that held Key-That-Opens-All-Locks and The Dragon Jewel upon it, draped it over his waistcoat, fastened the Ruby Heart’s Stone bracelet onto his wrist, and - last but not least - placed the crown onto his sore and tired ears. Even after four years of wearing it, his head never grew that large and he doubted it ever would. 

Hiccup only managed to get himself settled on his Stone when the Courtyard doors burst open to reveal a seven-foot-tall Thuggory the Meathead, decked in treasures from his adventures of trading. He swaggered past the guards lining the courtyard and knelt a respectful six feet away from the Stone’s base.

‘My sword is at your service, King,’ Thuggory boomed.

‘I am honoured to accept it,’ Hiccup replied, his voice clearer and more confident than the first time he had to say it.

‘Uhhh, do I do that, or…’ came a voice from the doors. Hiccup’s eyes flicked to where, just inside the Courtyard, a young man with shoulder-length hair stood awkwardly. He was clad from head to toe in a blue-black fire-suit with leather embellishments, a level of armour that few had to use. Even his left foot - which looked to be more metal than flesh - looked to be made with a certain engineering ingenuity that most Vikings Hiccup knew were not even capable of.

Beside the young man was an unidentifiable dragon.

The young King had come across many dragons in his lifetime, yet he had never seen a dragon like it. It looked a little like a Darkbreather crossed with a Common-or-Garden crossed with a Windwalker, even though such a combination was highly impossible, and even then it had to have a little cat somewhere in its lineage. It was a good size for a riding dragon and the way its muscles rippled with each movement it made spoke to its almost unperceived power. Its young man, leaning casually against it, had chosen well.

‘No,’ said Hiccup from his Stone. ‘You don’t have to bow to me. Most people like to do it, though, can’t for the life of me understand why…’

‘Oh, I think you do, boyo!’ Thuggory smiled, rising from his knelt position. ‘King Hiccup, this is another Hiccup. You sure you don’t have a secret twin or something?’ His grin was snaking up to his ears and his eyes gleamed with mirth.

Hiccup, however, was not amused.

He gestured for the other Hiccup to approach him, the young man’s slow pace unable to match Hiccup’s racing mind. As far as he knew, the Naming Dame only Named Horrendous Haddocks to be Hiccups, and there had only been three. Could this be the fourth? Or even... 

‘What Tribe are you from?’ he asked regally, in the tone of voice that he’d steadily mastered over four years.

‘Hairy Hooligans,’ the other Hiccup responded. ‘I’m actually the Heir, and I _really_ should be in the smithy with Gobber, so if you could show me how to get back that would be great-’

‘I find it a little hard to believe that I didn’t know of another Hiccup in my tribe.’

‘Oh, uh, about that. I, um, I think that I’m sorta lost? Like, I’m pretty sure I’m in a different place.’

‘Oh? What happened?’ Hiccup asked. He was ashamed to find that he was on the edge of his seat - erm, Stone.

‘Well, I was just flying on Toothless - that’s my dragon -’

‘ _Toothless_?’ Thuggory asked, confused. Hiccup shushed him and allowed the young man to continue.

‘Yeah, Toothless, he’s got retractable teeth. Anyway, I was - uh - _scouting_ some islands when this mist came on us. The way it moved was so _weird_ , like it went fast then slow then fast again. It cleared and then I was flying over this boat. The sea looked completely different - seriously, how is yours so _grey_ \- so I landed and asked where I was. And this guy said tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a place.’

‘You’re standing in Tomorrow, so I’m sorry to disappoint,’ Hiccup said. ‘It’s what we call this island.’

The other Hiccup shrugged. ‘Still doesn’t make any sense, but whatever.’

Wodensfang, who was sitting puffed-chest on the Throne’s uncomfortable armrest, spoke up. **_‘If I may cut in, Your Majesty,’_** he coughed, **_‘I know this boy.’_**

**_‘You do?’_ ** Hiccup said, turning his head slightly but not enough to take his eyes off the other Hiccup.

**_‘Yes,’_ ** the Wodensfang wheezed. **_‘He bears a striking resemblance to my Hiccup.’_ **

**_‘Wodensfang,’_ ** Hiccup said slowly, **_‘Do you mean-’_ **

**_‘I believe that he is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the First.’_ **


	2. Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wodensfang is disappointed and the new Hiccup comes to terms with his situation.

**'Hiccup' refers to film!Hiccup in this chapter.**

So far, Hiccup’s entire day had been weird. When he got up, Toothless wasn’t in his room but was instead at Astrid’s - and he still didn’t know why. Because of this, he was late to breakfast and had to go work at the smithy without having any. Loki himself had apparently decided to set his sights on poor Hiccup that day, as when he arrived Gobber was sat in the corner petting a Terrible Terror like everything was normal. Hiccup took Toothless on a little flight to get it out of his system and to expand a little on the map he’d started impulsively about a week ago - but it was quickly interrupted by a swiftly descending fog that had the gall to appear out of nowhere. So, following a boat only to find a King that had the same name as him? Sure. Fine. Whatever. Hiccup had to be a pretty common name, right?

The guy’s throne room was pretty sweet, though. It was open-air, which mustn’t help when it snowed, but that was his problem. It did send a certain chill down and around but Nightfury dragonskin insulates pretty well so Hiccup wasn’t that bothered by it. The guards must have been, though; they were hugging the walls and, even though they weren’t moving, there was ice forming on their bushy mustaches. What puzzled Hiccup most, however, was what the King was sitting on. Who would pass up the chance to sit on a proper throne? It looked sturdy enough and clean enough, but the guy was sitting on a _literal rock_. Like, what? Surely that must be uncomfortable. Especially if he’s sitting on it for long.

The King, having seemed to have finished his conversation (conversation? Dragons don’t talk, so how is he-), turned back to Hiccup. ‘I’m inviting you to dinner,’ he announced. ‘I’m really, really hoping you’re not who I think you are, but I guess we’ll have to make do. We’ll start working on how to get you back home tomorrow, as dinner isn’t far off. Wodensfang will show you to a room, if you don’t mind…?’

‘Uh, yeah, sure,’ Hiccup replied, leaning more on Toothless; the prosthetic was really starting to ache after several hours of having it attached. ‘Who’s Wodensfang?’

The King gestured to the little brown dragon perched on the throne. Hiccup held back a scoff; the dragon was small, even smaller than a baby Terrible Terror! He must’ve had the job of guiding people or something; he didn’t look good for any heavy lifting, as Hiccup knew from trying to send packages through the postal service. It was better to ride Toothless over there and be done with it. Still, when the little brown dragon flapped up into the air and vaguely toward the doors, Hiccup followed.

They’d gone through around four corridors and up two flights of stairs before the dragon started popping and squeaking and making weird vowel sounds. Which was weird, but became even weirder when Toothless popped and squeaked back.

‘Excuse me,’ Hiccup said. Both dragons were chatting up a storm, however, so neither heard him. ‘Excuse me!’

‘Pardon us,’ said Wodensfang. Hiccup jumped back a little.

‘You can - you can _talk_?’

To his surprise, Wodensfang seemed a little hurt.

‘Of course I can talk!’ he harrumphed. ‘Surely you of all people must know what Dragonese is.’

Hiccup shook his head.

‘Oh,’ Wodensfang said again, his body drooping a little. ‘Oh dear. Well, nevermind, we’ve arrived at the guest room. I had hoped… But no matter.’

They’d come to a halt at a heavy wooden door with a brass handle, framed on either side by two candlelit wall sconces. Hiccup pushed open the (remarkably heavy) door and his jaw dropped.

Vikings are not used to castles and grandeur; they live out their lives in huts and longboats, for Thor’s sake. When Hiccup first laid eyes on the Castle on Tomorrow, he was amazed beyond belief at the sheer _feat_ of engineering and building before him. It had taken him quite some time to stop eyeing the intricacies of dragon-shaped turrets and carved stories and catch up to Thuggory, who’d pulled ahead easily with his long stride and impressive height. The only place on Berk that came _close_ to that was the Great Hall, yet even that was rather unassuming from the outside. So when Hiccup entered the guest room, he couldn’t help but gasp. In the centre of the room stood a massive double four-poster bed of the likes he’d only ever seen in his father’s room. Thick curtains hung from the frame and the bedding was a deep ultramarine violet that spoke of luxury. At the foot of the bed was an ornate ottoman that rested upon a Persian rug that stretched to all four corners of the room, aside from the fireplace, which had a wide grated opening and a stack of logs beside it. Hiccup had never seen such a wealthy room, not back on Berk.

‘Dinner’s at sunset!’ Wodensfang called out from the doorway before slamming it with some unseen strength. Without further ado, Toothless jumped on the bed and started rolling around on the sheets.

‘Toothless,’ Hiccup groaned. ‘You always do this! Can’t we have _some_ nice things?’

The big blue-black dragon shook his head from where it draped over the bedframe. Hiccup sighed and sat on the ottoman and removed his prosthetic, placing it beside him. It was good to go without it for a while. For a moment, he watched through the criss-crossed narrow window at some birds frolicking about in the icy sky.

Where _was_ he?

Toothless nudged his arm and Hiccup lifted it up, allowing the dragon to lay his head on his lap. Absentmindedly, the teenager began to scratch at his scales, getting his fingers underneath each one. Toothless purred beneath him and closed his eyes to end his hypnotic gaze.

‘Where do _you_ think we’re at, bud?’ Hiccup mumbled, hands fluttering across his dragon’s head. Toothless grumbled and half-opened an eye, before closing it again.

The thing is… Hiccup knew, deep down, that he wasn’t in the same world when the mist cleared. For one, the water had a weirder quality about it, like something was alive under the surface. It was also far darker and far choppier than anything Hiccup had seen around Berk. Aside from that, everybody here was so comfortable with dragons, so unhesitant to interact with them and make decades-old sculptures of them. The war had only ended four, five years earlier - so how had these Vikings become so accustomed to dragon life? This world was the same in the sense that there are Vikings and Hiccups and dragons, but different in the sense of _practically everything else_.

The difficult part would be figuring out what on earth this same-yet-different world _was_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone, but it's a shorter one today! I'm not good at writing movie!Hiccup; he just doesn't interest me as much as book!Hiccup. Of course, that could be because I haven't watched the third film and he may have a lot of character depth there, but I think it may be because I expect him to be like book!Hiccup yet when I rewatch the first and second films he's drastically different. Either way, I hope you're satisfied with my portrayal of him.
> 
> -Adex
> 
> P.S I retconned the Big Celebration at the end of the story; instead of it being Hiccup's birthday, it's the Celebration of the Black Star. I thought it fit better with the theme of the 12 Days of Doomsday.


	3. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup and Thuggory catch up. The stranger confesses.

**‘Hiccup’ refers to book!Hiccup in this chapter.**

With sunset a mere half-hour away, Hiccup decided to welcome Thuggory back to Tomorrow in proper fashion: by having a good old Viking swordfight. It was more for selfish reasons than anything else, as Hiccup hadn’t had anyone good to spar with ever since Camicazi left for the Bog-Burglar Islands - and that was over a _month_ ago. His sword-arm _itched_.

‘Fancy a spar?’ he asked Thuggory once the new Hiccup had left.

‘You betcha!’

So there they were, swordfighting in the sparsely decorated North Hall and chattering about the Fatimids. In an attempt to avoid the Romans, Thuggory had sailed due South and had found Morocco - a place where dragons didn’t exist. None of the humans spoke Norse, according to the messenger dragon he sent back, so the small party of Meatheads and Bashem Oiks had to learn some things the hard way.

‘We had quite a scare when we tried to sell them beer, I’ll tell you that,’ Thuggory said while expertly dodging Hiccup’s Twirling Double Point.

Hiccup, who’d been drinking beer from a young age since clean water was hard to extract from Berk’s salt-sodden seas, was a little confused at that. ‘Did they have their own or something?’ he asked as he feinted to the left.

‘No, they’re not like us for some reason. They think Thor and Woden are fairy stories, complete rubbish - I say _they’re_ complete rubbish-’

‘Thuggory,’ Hiccup said through gritted teeth, ‘I am begging you to tell me that you didn’t say ANY of that to the Fatimids’ faces.’

‘Of course not! I’m an Heir, for Thor’s sake!’ Thuggory scoffed, making Hiccup sigh with relief. ‘Anyway, point is, they think there’s this one god who made everything and set everything out for everyone. Busy man, it sounded like. One of the rules he’s got is that nobody’s allowed to have a stiff drink, which is a bit mad if you ask me.’

‘A bit mad indeed,’ Hiccup replied, his mind wandering. ‘So what about the friend you brought back with you?’

‘I wouldn’t call him a _friend_. More of a nice guy I helped out. He looked a little lost, to be honest, circling about on that big black dragon. What breed is it, by the way? I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Neither - have - I,’ Hiccup said between blocking an oncoming barrage of blade from Thuggory. For a few minutes, each man focused on the swordfight, both expertly attacking and blocking and parrying. This continued until Hiccup managed to slip underneath Thuggory’s defences and knock the sword right out of his hand.

‘I’ll get back at you someday, boyo,’ Thuggory grumbled as Hiccup played with his sword. The teen appeared to be inspecting it, turning it this way and that as if he were a blacksmith himself.

‘Did you get a new one?’ Hiccup asked. ‘I hadn’t noticed, but this one’s bendier than your last one.’

Thuggory puffed himself up to his full height of seven feet, which towered over Hiccup’s measly five. ‘I did indeed,’ he said. ‘Got it for a scrap of dragonskin. Didn’t even know they’d been swindled!’

Hiccup grimaced and handed the sword back to him, praying silently that his plan to make contact with non-Romans wouldn’t sink as soon as it embarked all because someone saw the need to fool a merchant. ‘Well, it’s a nice sword,’ he acquiesced. He glanced outside, only to find that it was nearing sunset. ‘I suspect that it might be best to go to dinner.’

So they did.

One of the first traditions Hiccup had instated as King was to provide a meal for everyone at the end of the day for everyone on Tomorrow. Currently, that wasn’t much of a problem - the only people on the island at the moment were some old Vikings and a few dragons - but it was going to be harder to feed everyone once the Tribes of the Archipelago sledded over for Black Star. Not to mention some - the Peaceables, the Hooligans, the Bog-Burglars, the No-Names - were planning to stay over for an extra few weeks to help with the efforts to rebuild Tomorrow. The castle was finished, but Hiccup was worried about chunks of the island being ripped off and at mercy to the harsh Archipelago sea. Hopefully, he’d be able to enlist some dragons to help recreate the Burrowing Slitherfang glass which should withstand saltwater better than any land-native stone.

For tonight, however, Hiccup resolved to concentrate on dinner.

There was a long trestle table that spanned the length of the South Hall that was piled high with food: duck, cod, mackerel, even some vegetables that Hiccup had managed to persuade his fellow Vikings to eat. Some, who Hiccup recognised as the diligent group of fishers who decided to stay on Tomorrow, were already sat down and enjoying the hearty meal. It seemed that he and Thuggory were early. For lack of something better to do, Hiccup slid onto the bench next to them and struck up a conversation about his proposed glass wall and where to put it.

Slowly, more people came filing in, lured by the food and the promise that the day was over. There was Red Ronald, who’d somehow survived the sinking of the American Dream 2, a battle with the American peoples after he tried to bash them, and sailing back to the Archipelago on a raft made from several planks of wood just in time for the Dragon Rebellion to be over. There was Rugged Rita, who hadn’t gone back to a still-burned Berk because she had Plans. (Hiccup wasn’t sure what they were, but he knew to be either very, very afraid or very, very hopeful. Whenever she Had a Plan in Hammerthrowing it would end with a student collapsed on the ground and wheezing. Which was fun when it was Snotlout, but not so much when it was Hiccup, or worse Fishlegs, who both boys knew was one bad asthma attack away from death.)

_step-TAP… step-TAP… step-TAP…_

Hiccup froze in the middle of reaching for the fish stew. _Alvin_ , his thoughts whispered, _it’s Alvin it’s Alvin it’s ALVIN_ but he saw him, didn’t he? Alvin the Treacherous was long gone, fed to the sky-dragons, _never to be seen again_ \- but Hiccup had thought that before. A grim reminder of Alvin being swallowed by a fire-dragon only to be seen _again_ on the Isle of Beserk entered his mind’s eye. Surely, surely not even Alvin the Treacherous could come back from sky-dragons. Surely, _surely_ being launched into the stratosphere was enough to kill _anyone_. Surely, SURELY such a feat was impossible.

 _Not impossible_ , Old Wrinkly’s lined eyes from across the table seemed to say to him. _Just improbable._

‘Uhh, excuse me?’ a voice came from behind Hiccup. He whipped around, ready to unsheath Endeavour - only to come face to face with the young man who’d arrived earlier that day. Hiccup’s eyes flicked down to where his foot was replaced with a metal contraption.

 _Ah_. Right.

‘Have a seat,’ Hiccup said, a Kingly smile warming his face. The young man - the new Hiccup - sat down and swung his legs over the bench.

‘So, do you just, uh…’

‘Take what you like,’ Hiccup explained. ‘It’s for everyone.’ He watched carefully as the young man hesitantly reached out to slice a bit of meat off the roast duck, before placing it on his plate.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to intrude, but-’

‘No worries,’ Hiccup replied. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your dragon? I’ve never seen a breed like him before. Assuming it’s a him, of course.’

The man’s face brightened. ‘He’s a Nightfury, one of the only ones I know of. I, uh, I kinda - accidentally, accidentally! - shot him down, and I cut him free. But, I, uh, his tail was damaged and he couldn’t fly so I made him a new one. See - it’s red, and it’s got a skull on it.’

Hiccup turned in his seat to where the Windwalker and the blue-black dragon were inspecting each other. He strained to overhear.

**_‘So you say you have a Hiccup too?’_ **

**_‘Of course I have a Hiccup! He saved me. He also took me here, but I’d really like to get back.’_ **

‘Your dragon misses home,’ Hiccup said.

‘What?’

Hiccup pointed inconspicuously in the direction of the two dragons. ‘They’re talking, and I just so happened to overhear yours say he wants to go home. Got a fiendishly clever plan, by any chance?’ In this instance, Hiccup was really _really_ hoping that the other man would; he was a little useless at coming up with a Fiendishly Clever Plan to get strangers out of trouble. Himself, or even Fishlegs and Camicazi, sure, but this new Hiccup? It would be tricky, to say the least.

‘No,’ the young man replied, a little despondently. ‘When I went through that mist, I think I travelled into a - a different _world_. Like, a different time, different place, different history, different everything.’

‘Oh?’ Hiccup replied, a little cautious. ‘And what makes you think _that_?’

‘In my Berk, we only recently ended the human-dragon war. But your lot have sculptures and memorials to dragons that look decades old, and I’m pretty sure we’d have heard of a nation of dragon-trainers.’

Hiccup chewed his mackerel a little more before swallowing hard. ‘We’ll figure out how to get you home later,’ he decided. ‘Usually, dinner’s the end of the working day, but a lot of people are arriving tomorrow for the Celebration of the Black Star, which is the day after, and I’ve got to make preparations to host several thousand Vikings and dragons.’

‘What’s Black Star?’

Hiccup paused. He hadn’t ever had to explain that before; almost every Viking alive at that moment understood the significance of it, the ending of years of turmoil and its hope it represented. Last year was especially rowdy as the last of the Tribes to rebuild their island - the Hooligans - were about to go home for good. How could he possibly convey its importance?

‘It marks the anniversary of the end of the Dragon Rebellion,’ he decided on. ‘A lot of humans and dragons died. We come together each year to remember them.’


	4. Welcoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wodensfang narrates the arrival of the Tribes of the Archipelago to the new Hiccup, including one Madguts the Murderous.

**For this chapter, ‘Hiccup’ refers to film!Hiccup.**

When the time came, Hiccup was glad that he hadn’t chosen to accompany the King in welcoming his subjects on Tomorrow’s beach. He’d instead chosen to lounge languidly on the bough of a thousand-year-old tree stripped bare by the winter. His was low to the ground, but Toothless was perched on the top branches that twisted and curled like nobody’s business.

‘I just don’t get it,’ Hiccup thought aloud to his dragon as he gazed down at the beach. ‘I mean, how does Other Me do it? Be a King? I can’t imagine even being a Chief, but I’ve still gotta be one.’

Toothless yawned in sympathy, shaking the tree a little.

‘Thanks, bud. Love the conversation we’re having. Anyway, props to him, cos I could never do it.’

On the horizon, a set of rowing boats slowly materialised out of the misty December morning. Those down on the beach had clearly heard it too, for shouts and cries of glee reached Hiccup’s tree from the few hundred feet away they were standing at. Hiccup was a little confused, to be honest; on his Berk, Vikings sailed in longboats, not in teeny weeny little rowing boats that were only good for fishing. Still, when the rowing boats are within distance, the one at point disembarked and waded through the water before gathering the King up in a hug. The King, to Hiccup’s surprise, reciprocated, squeezing the leader as tight as could be.

‘That’s Chief Fishlegs, in case you’re wondering,’ a voice rattled from behind Hiccup, who nearly jumped out of his skin.

‘For Thor’s sake, Wodensfang,’ Hiccup grumbled, ‘I almost fell off!’

‘Oh, you would’ve been fine,’ the little brown dragon dismissed from his sitting place on the branch above Hiccup. ‘Back in  _ my _ day, a small head-knock would be  _ good  _ for you! Young ones these days…’

‘Wodensfang,’ Hiccup said reproachfully, watching as the two young men on the beach ceased their embrace, ‘did you just say CHIEF Fishlegs?’

‘Oh yes. Chief Fishlegs the Faithful of the No-Name tribe.  _ Be Of Good Cheer For All Are Welcome Here _ . He formed it himself, you know. I’m rather proud of him; it takes a lot of guts to do such a thing, especially after one has found out one is a half-Outcast, quarter-Murderous, and quarter-Beserk.’

‘Alright, I’m just going to pretend that I understood any of what you just said.’

‘It’s quite simple, you know. Fishlegs is the name of a Runt, you see, and if the Naming Dame-’

‘Look! More boats!’ Hiccup yelled, trying to get out of a history lesson on this world. It was so similar he’d probably end up mixing this one and his own one up until, when he got home, he wouldn’t be able to separate one or the other. Either way, he was right; another fleet of boats had appeared on the horizon. These ones were much more like how Hiccup expected: glorious longboats waving aloft tribal flags, laden with loot. Although, upon closer inspection, they seemed to be in rather poor condition.

‘Ah, yes,’ Wodensfang wheezed, ‘the Danger-Brutes and Quietlifes. They’ve joined forces in recent years; the Danger-Brutes haven’t got any adults left and the Quietlifes don’t have any children left. Dragon Rebellion, you know. Awful, awful thing…’

Hiccup sighed and leaned backward, tuning Wodensfang out as he listed some more boats as they came on the horizon.

‘Visithugs - oh, poor Barbara the Barbarian, she received a love letter on Midsummers’ Day, can’t imagine who  _ that  _ was from…’

‘King Hiccup’s given the Peaceables more say at The Thing and goodness knows they need it, poor things…’

‘Oh, look, I can see Chief Mogadon! I’ll be glad to see Thuggory return to his father. Human lives are so  _ fleeting _ , you know, they can’t possibly-’

Here, Toothless snapped warningly from his position in the branches. Wodensfang thankfully grew silent for all of two seconds - before starting up in the series of pops and whistles that made up the dragons’ language.

This Hiccup from another world cannot understand the language of Dragonese. But, dear reader, we can. The conversation went as follows:

**_‘You cannot expect to keep him forever, you know.’_ **

**_‘I want to.’_ **

**_‘You will have to let him go. I let my Hiccup go, then the Hiccup after that, and I will have to leave this Hiccup when the time comes once more. We are dragons. Dragons of different stock, but dragons all the same. Do you want him to die in your arms?’_ **

**_‘...No.’_ **

**_‘Then you have to come up with a solution. Humans live a near fraction of our lives; by my standards, yours and Hiccup’s nineteen years is that of a newborn baby. Why, my Toothless is only a hundred and four and acts like a spoilt toddler whenever he doesn’t get what he wishes!’_ **

**_‘I don’t want to leave my Hiccup. He saved me.’_ **

**_‘He’ll leave you first, just you wait. You can’t save him in return.’_ **

Of course, the blue-black dragon’s Hiccup was completely unaware of what was being discussed over his head, for he’d spotted another fleet of ships. He drew out the telescope from his armour and peered at the pointer boat. Holding the mast, standing proudly at the helm, was a blonde-haired blue-eyed incredibly short girl.

Hiccup saw a nine-year-old Astrid all over again, snaggletoothed and fierce as she told Hiccup off for letting her steal his haddock. That was probably when he first fell in love with her, which probably isn’t the healthiest crush for a young boy to have.

‘There are the Bog-Burglars!’ Wodensfang cried. ‘They’re all women, of course, always have and always will. Oh, they keep their male children, of course, of course, but they’re sent off to sea once they reach fifteen. Nowadays, of course, the No-Names take them, but it did seem  _ frightfully _ old-fashioned when I, ah, came to.’

As the Bog-Burglars came to shore, the girl jumped out of her boat much like this world’s Fishlegs but, instead of embracing the King, she drew her sword!

‘What is she  _ doing _ ?’ Hiccup murmured, lowering his telescope as she and the King began to swordfight.

‘Hiccup and Camicazi?’ Wodensfang asked. ‘Oh, yes, they seem fond of doing that. A while ago I had to wake up at donkey’s hours just because they grew  _ bored _ . I understand, I really do, but it’s simply impolite to force others out of their sleep by your metal clanking this way and that...’

Even from the tree, Hiccup could hear the little blonde girl - Camicazi - chattering as she parried and attacked.

‘Oooh, you’ve gone a bit  _ soft _ , haven’t you Hiccup! All those days sitting your fat bottom on the Stone haven’t done you any good, have they!’

‘She seems a little rude,’ Hiccup whispered to Wodensfang.

‘Careful, that’s the youngest person to win Bronze FlashMaster ever you’re talking about,’ Wodensfang remarked sharply. ‘You would do well to respect her as one of your betters.’

The swordfight on the beach slowly drew to a close and both Camicazi and the King bowed to each other, looked up, and embraced, laughing. If Camicazi was this world’s Astrid, and if the King was this world’s Hiccup, and if Fishlegs the Faithful was this world’s Fishlegs… This world had to have a Stoick. A Gobber. A Snotlout.

Another fleet of ships appeared on the horizon, a fleet of ships that seemed awfully familiar. Sure enough, as the started arriving at shore, Hiccup could see his father’s most prized longboat: The Blue Whale. At its helm, about to dismount, was a man who was Stoick and not Stoick all at the same time. Hiccup’s father’s beard was carefully groomed and styled each morning in front of a buffed piece of glass set against black fabric, whereas this Stoick’s beard was a tangled mess left by itself to roam free however it wished. Hiccup’s Gobber was missing an arm and a leg, but this Gobber seemed to have both still attached along with a bushy beard which was a stark contrast to Hiccup’s Gobber’s mustached plaits. Hiccup’s eyes followed the familiar men as they walked up to Hiccup, one embracing his son, the other grasping his hand in a firm handshake.

Wodensfang eyed him knowingly.

‘In my world,’ Hiccup began, talking more to himself than the little brown dragon, ‘I have... versions, for lack of a better word, of everyone on that beach. Stoick, he’s - he’s my father, back home. Gobber works in a blacksmith and I’m his apprentice but I don’t do that as much nowadays. You guys have Camicazi and Fishlegs, I have Astrid and Ruffnut and Tuffnut and Fishlegs and Snotlout… Do you have a Snotlout?’

Wodensfang winced. ‘We did… He is who the Celebration of the Black Star is named for.’

‘Oh,’ Hiccup replied, watching as there were many more greetings on the shore. Some Vikings left quickly, holding suitcases and lobster pots packed with belongings that they dragged along behind them to the castle. Others - mainly the Chieftans - lingered and stared into the distance. ‘What are they waiting for?’ Hiccup asked.

‘The Murderous Tribe, they’re always horrendously late. No manners, the lot of them.’

Sure enough, after another ten minutes, Hiccup could see another wave of ships cresting the horizon. As they drifted to shore, those left on the beach grew tense and wary - the King in particular, who looked rather white and as if he wanted to hide behind his father’s leg as if he were a toddler

‘Why’s everyone so afraid of them?’ Hiccup asked.

Wodensfang harrumphed and poised his wings for flight. ‘Chief Madguts wants the crown and he’ll stop at nothing to get it. I’ve  _ tried _ warning my Hiccup, but the nature of a Hiccup is to be too forgiving… I must be off. Farewell.’

And then he was gone.

‘Not gonna lie, bud, I don’t really want to go down there,’ Hiccup remarked to Toothless, who yawned in solidarity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give it up for the Fourth Day of Doomsday! Due to my writing these on the day, I apologise if it's poorly edited as I'm doing all of this in the run-up to the Sixth Day of Doomsday, also known as Christmas. As a result, I don't have much time to write and edit these. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Adex
> 
> **Edit 30/12/2020: I've caught a cold that's possibly the Dreaded Virus, my menstrual cycle decided to move ahead of schedule, and I'm all around not having a good time. So, uh... I probably won't finish this. Sorry. I have a gift exchange coming up, I'm going back to school in a few days (which means online mocks), and I have a lot of winter homework to catch up on. Life, amirite? Sorry again.**
> 
> **-Adex**


End file.
